


Trust and Obey

by RetroactiveCon



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Aftercare, Dom Iris West, Dom/sub, F/M, Orgasm Denial, Punishment, Spanking, Sub Barry Allen, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:01:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22965823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon
Summary: “Do you understand what I’m going to do to you?” She presses a finger to the underside of his chin and forces his head further back. It bares the delicate skin of his throat in a way that, judging from his sharp intake of breath, he can’t help interpreting as a threat. Judging by the pretty flush rising in his cheeks, he doesn’t mind a little threat.“I didn’t listen to you,” he reports. “I put myself in needless danger. So I’m going to get thirty hits with the paddle, and then…” He grimaces. “And then you’re going to use me as a toy to make yourself come.”“Do you get to come tonight?” she asks, a hint of steel under her sweet tone.“No, Mistress.”
Relationships: Barry Allen/Iris West
Comments: 9
Kudos: 63





	Trust and Obey

“Safeword?”

Barry looks up, all big doe eyes and desperate, parted lips. He’s so pretty on his knees, it’s a wonder Iris doesn’t keep him there permanently. “Banana.”

She smiles. It was his idea, a playful reference to her inability to cook. “Good boy. You are not to speak except to use that word or to answer questions I pose to you. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Mistress.” It’s a nice touch before the scene really begins. It shows how happily Barry accepts his role—needs it, even, after a stressful day like this one. It doesn’t alleviate her frustration with him, but then, that’s what the scene is about. 

“Do you understand what I’m going to do to you?” She presses a finger to the underside of his chin and forces his head further back. It bares the delicate skin of his throat in a way that, judging from his sharp intake of breath, he can’t help interpreting as a threat. If the pretty flush rising in his cheeks is any indication, he doesn’t mind a little threat. 

“I didn’t listen to you,” he reports. “I put myself in needless danger. So I’m going to get thirty hits with the paddle, and then…” He grimaces. “And then you’re going to use me as a toy to make yourself come.”

“Do you get to come tonight?” she asks, a hint of steel under her sweet tone. 

“No, Mistress.” 

She hands him a cock ring—purple, like her lightning, because she loves seeing her colors on him. “Put this on,” she coaxes. Without some kind of restraint, it’s impossible for him not to come. She doesn’t set him impossible tasks (unless they’ve agreed to it beforehand as an excuse to get him punished). 

Obediently, he fits his cock and balls through the ring. It stretches to accommodate, but when it’s in place, it’s tight enough to make Barry squirm. He hates being denied; it’s part of why Iris saves it for nights like this one, when she’s genuinely frustrated. 

“On the bed, pretty boy.”

Barry goes to get to his feet. Iris stops him by pressing her foot very lightly on his thigh. “Ah-ah, you can crawl. Show me what a good, obedient boy you can be.”

Barry does, because at heart he wants nothing more than to be her good boy. She watches him greedily—his ass is a thing of beauty—until he gets close to the bed. Then she picks up the paddle and strides across the room. Barry, who’s just managed to clamber onto the mattress, looks over his shoulder at her. 

“What a pretty little ass.” She strokes a hand over the curve of Barry’s ass. He pushes back into her touch until she gives him a playful smack with the flat of her hand. “I’m going to turn it bright cherry red, just because I can.”

The first smack with the paddle makes Barry yelp. His skin turns vivid red almost immediately. Iris loves how his body reacts—the marks she makes may not last, but they appear instantly. It means she’s able to enjoy them in the context of the scene and not have to worry about how Barry will explain them after. 

“One,” Iris says. She scratches her nails over the flushed skin, not hard enough to leave marks but enough to feel harsh against already-sensitive nerves. “Why are you being punished?”

“I didn’t— _oh!”_ Barry cries out when she smacks his ass again. “I didn’t obey you while I was in the field and it meant I got unnecessarily hurt.”

“And _why_ didn’t you listen to me?” Iris smacks him with particular force. Barry whimpers. 

“I thought I knew better because I was there, but you had more information and I should have listened to you.”

“Yes, you should have.” She punctuates this with two smacks in rapid succession. “But you thought you knew better, like you always do.”

“I don’t—” Barry starts. Iris silences him by spanking him twice with the flat of her hand. 

“I don’t remember giving you permission to speak.” 

At the reprimand, he lets his head hang down. He’s starting to slip into the right headspace to take his punishment, but it will take a while longer to get him all the way down. 

“I was _saying,”_ she scolds. “You don’t listen to me, you doubt my advice, and when I would do nothing more than keep you safe, you question my every word. And I’ll tell you something, Barry, I’m getting sick of it.”

She needs to take a breath and refocus. Now, with the paddle in hand and Barry sinking into subspace, is the wrong time to let her anger get the better of her. She should have addressed it earlier, well before they planned for the scene, but at that point she didn’t know how deep her irritation ran. Now that she does, there’s nothing to do but save it for a later, clearer-headed discussion. 

Barry whimpers and fusses but takes his punishment well. After the final spank, Iris sets the paddle aside, coaxes him onto his back, and gives him a single, too-quick kiss. She wants to kiss him properly, but a Domme set on punishment can’t afford that level of gentleness. “Color, pretty boy?”

He peers at her with dull, dreamy eyes. “Green?” 

“Are you sure?” He tends to answer check-in questions uncertainly, as though he’s not sure what answer she wants. She wishes he wouldn’t; it makes her doubt whether she can trust his answer. 

He nods. “Green, Mistress.” 

Iris reaches down and wraps her fingers around his cock. His erection flagged somewhat during the spanking, but a few strokes bring him back to full hardness. She straddles his hips and coaxes, “Vibrate for me.”

Obediently, Barry blurs into motion. It’s a low-frequency vibration that he can maintain for some time; he thinks she wants to play with him for a while, and he’s not wrong. She murmurs, “Good boy,” and rubs his cockhead against her folds, paying particular attention to her clit, where the vibrations feel best. He whimpers and ruts up into her warmth, only for her to smack his belly in reproach. 

“Do pretty little fucktoys get to move?” 

He forces himself to lay still. “N-no, Mistress.”

Just to prove her point, she rubs against him one more time. “That’s right. Pretty little fucktoys stay still until Mistress tells them otherwise.”

She takes her time sinking down on him, knowing how torturous it will be for him not to buck up into her. To his credit, he doesn’t move, although he whimpers a lot and stares up at her with pretty, begging eyes. 

“There’s a good boy,” she coaxes. “You can move.”

Given permission, Barry fucks up into her at a desperate pace. He adds little vibrations to the end of most of his thrusts; it’s clear he wants to get her off quickly. Charitably, Iris wants to think it’s because he knows how wet she got when she was spanking him (his noises are nothing if not arousing), but probably he knows the quicker she finishes, the less unpleasant the denial will be for him. 

She comes with his cock deep inside her and his fingers vibrating on her clit. In the aftermath, she lifts off of him and curls beside him on the mattress. In a moment, when he’s in a stable headspace, she’ll clean him up. For now, she doesn’t dare leave him alone. 

“Come here,” she coos. Obediently, he burrows into her arms. She guides his head into the crook of her neck. Once there, he peppers kisses over her neck and shoulder. “My good boy. You were so good for me—you took your punishment so well, and you made me feel so good.”

He purrs and mumbles nonsense into her neck. She presses a kiss to the sweat-damp hair at his temple. She doesn’t know if she’s truly forgiven him for the day’s events—they’re part of a larger pattern that needs discussed before forgiveness can be earned—but it’s hard to stay angry while still buzzing with energy from a mind-blowing orgasm. 

“I’m sorry,” he says presently. 

“Why, babe?” She scratches lightly at the nape of his neck. He purrs and huddles closer.

“For not listening. I know it’s bad.” 

It isn’t enough of an apology—she feels she has the right to make that call. Still, for now it’s plenty, especially given that he’s still pretty drifty. “We can talk about that later, okay, babe? For now, just focus on how good you were for me during the scene. Everything else comes later.”

He nods. There’s a stretch of comfortable silence until Barry breaks it with a mumbled, “Orange you glad I didn’t say banana?” 

She snorts a laugh. “I will _never_ criticize you for safewording if you need to, but given that you’ve probably waited to make this pun for a long time: very funny.”

He makes a little happy sound low in his throat. “Love you, Mistress Iris.” 

She can’t help smiling at the way he addresses her—still too deep in subspace not to use the title, but out of the scene enough to call her by name. “I love you too, babe.”


End file.
